


Family

by Wwwhat



Series: To Those Who Wait [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Domestic, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Parentlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-18 07:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wwwhat/pseuds/Wwwhat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say you can't pick your family, and Sherlock and John know that for sure. </p>
<p>Mycroft and Harry upset the balance of the Watson Holmes household, in opposite but no less annoying ways.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I just didn't know you'd be <em>so</em> pregnant. You probably don't want to come for a pint then?" Harry's grin was not returned.</p>
<p>"No Harry, probably not, I mean besides this," his gestured to his pregnant belly, "it's 10am, and my son is upstairs."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can't pick 'em

**Author's Note:**

> So this one kind of ran away from me, became much longer than expected, and seems to leave scope for another part...not sure how any of this happened when it just started as a tiny scene inspired by the bit of a heatwave that we seem to be having in England right now! 
> 
> Again, thanks so much for the comments on the previous two bits of this little collection, they're so nice and very much appreciated.
> 
> Also, I own nothing and no one and everyone belongs to their original creators.

Before Sherlock could even get to the bottom of the stairs he found himself with an almost naked almost 4 year old boy wrapped around his legs.

"Daddy!" Hamish grinned up at his father, his little feet on top of Sherlock's shoes.

Sherlock smiled down at his son, stroking his damp curls. "Hamish, where are your clothes?" 

"In the garden," he squeezed his father's legs, still grinning.

"Is Papa in the garden too?" Sherlock stroked Hamish's nose, wiping a stray streak of sun cream in.

Hamish wrinkled his nose. "Yep.” Sherlock started walking them through Mrs Hudson’s open door. “Daddy, Papa said it was so hot that he thought he was going to melt," he bit his lip frowning up at Sherlock. "He won't will he?" 

"No," Sherlock smirked holding his son's arms, walking them both through Mrs Hudson's flat, heading for the small garden. "Papa's just being dramatic."

"Not dramatic," John's voice came through the open patio doors. "Pregnant. It's different." 

Hamish still balanced on his feet, Sherlock reached where John was sat in a garden chair under a parasol, a large icy drink on the table. He grinned as he let go of Hamish who climbed down and ran across the small garden. Sherlock leaned down and kissed John gently one hand moving to stroke the swell of John's belly. "That's right, silly me."

"Daddy look at this!" Hamish shrieked, standing in a filled paddling pool. "It's a pool in the garden!" He reached down and splashed his arms in the water, filling the air with his giggling shrieks.

Sherlock grinned at his son's delight, dropping into a chair next to John, his hand still caressing John's tummy. "So it is Hamish. Where's it come from?" 

"Gran said it’s a prize for being a good boy!" He sat down in the pool, splashing around and playing with some of his relocated bath toys. 

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow at John.

"You mean a _surprise_ Mish," John grinned, resting his icy glass against his face before taking a drink. Hamish was happily playing now, enjoying the cool water on the hottest day of the year. John turned to Sherlock. "She said she thought it'd keep him entertained without me having to take him anywhere."

Sherlock grinned, watching their son engrossed in what looked like a complicated game involving several boats and sea creatures. "He looks like he's enjoying it."

"He is," John nodded. "If he wasn't loving it so much I'd have kicked him out and got in there myself."

Sherlock looked at him, moving his hand to squeeze John's. "How are you feeling today?"

"Hot, uncomfortable, like I'm the size of a house and I can't believe I've still got two months left," John moaned. "None of which is helped by the fact that this one," he gestured to his belly, "has been on the move all day, and that one," he gestured to Hamish, "has more energy than he knows what to do with. Thank God Mrs Hudson got that, hopefully he'll wear himself out and sleep properly tonight." As if on cue John yawned.

Sherlock stroked soothing circles over John's belly feeling the baby wriggling around. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Hmm, maybe entertain Mish tomorrow? You could take him to the cinema to see that animated thing about dolphins," John leaned back slightly to ease his aching back.

"The _cinema_?" Sherlock sounded as though John had just suggested something entirely ridiculous. "Honestly John-"

"It's air conditioned," John interrupted with another yawn. 

"Oh, well...we'll see." Sherlock hated the cinema but two hours of air conditioning, a happy son and a rested mate sounded tempting. "Where is Mrs Hudson anyway?" He poured himself a drink from the jug on the table, ice clinking.

"Gone to Tesco- Mish, please try and keep some of the water in the paddling pool," he sat up a little watching that Hamish did as he was asked. "How was the case?" He asked turning toward his mate who was rolling his shirt sleeves up having abandoned his jacket and undone his collar a few more buttons.

"Only a six, dull but I did see Molly at the morgue and she's got a particularly interesting corpse I can go and have a look at tomorrow, decapitation," he stretched out in the chair.

"Oh really? Have they got the head?" 

Before Sherlock could answer Hamish came running over wiggling between John's knees, wrapping his arms around John's belly pressing his damp face against the bump, kissing it softly. "Hello baby," he whispered. "I can feel her moving around," he grinned up at John.

"Her ey?" John grinned stroking Hamish's hair back. Hamish nodded turning so he was facing Sherlock, his ear pressed against John. 

"Daddy did you catch the bad guys today?" 

"One of them, yes. And what makes you think it's a girl now? You were sure it was a boy the other day," Sherlock asked.

Hamish squirmed away from John to climb on Sherlock's lap. "I just think it is," he cuddled closer to Sherlock, his nose pressed against his neck for a moment breathing in his father's scent. "The news said it's the hottest day for twenty four years, that's a long time isn't it? Is that as old as uncle Mycroft even?"

"If you can believe it Hamish he's even older than that, ask him about it when you see him next," Sherlock smirked. "Have you been good for papa today?" He asked, an arm around his son, his drink in the other hand.

Hamish nodded. "Yep, I fetched him ice lollies and the newspaper." He reached for Sherlock's glass helping himself to some of his drink.

"Good boy," he said smirking at his mate who avoided his eye a small smile on his lips as he opened said paper.

"I'm going back in the pool," Hamish said already climbing down.

Sherlock smirked at John. "Honestly John, using our son to fetch and carry for you."

"He likes to be helpful, and you just can't believe you didn't think of it first," John grinned. He stretched out again. "I'm never being this pregnant again in summer."

Sherlock smiled at him softly. "That implies you'd be this pregnant again just not in summer."

"Mmm," John smiled. "Maybe I would. We'll see how this one goes first," he added, stroking a hand over his tummy, feeling the baby squirming around. It'd be too big to wiggle around so much pretty soon. "We'll be out of room here soon though. I'm not even sure what we'll do once this one's too big to stay in our room." He wiped a hand over his face, sighing softly.

Sherlock reached over and rested a hand on John's arm. "Have you been worrying about this?"

John snorted. "Of course I have, I'm a seven month pregnant omega, if I'm not fighting the urge to nest then I'm fighting the urge to worry about everything; am I eating the wrong things for the baby, are we prepared enough, am I neglecting Hamish, am I neglecting you, should I tidy the house more, should we move somewhere bigger, are our children going to join a gang if we raise them in London..." He trailed off feeling himself blush as he looked at Sherlock. He hated his ridiculous omega instincts sometimes.

"No wonder you've not been sleeping," the detective said after a moment. He leaned forward cupping John's face softly. "Everything will be fine. The baby is perfectly healthy, Hamish is perfectly happy, I'm not neglected at all, the house is fine, we'll think about our space issues, and they definitely will not join a gang, especially with the British government as their uncle, I believe it's hard to be in a gang with every CCTV camera in the city watching you. You're a good parent and a good mate so whatever we do we and our children will be fine."

John turned and kissed Sherlock's palm. "Thank you."

"Now stop pointlessly worrying, let's let Mrs Hudson take Hamish this evening and have a night on our own so I can make sure that you're not feeling neglected either."

John smirked at Sherlock. "It's very warm Sherlock, I'm not sure-"

Sherlock leaned in and kissed John, cutting him off before leaning in to whisper to his mate. "It'll be much cooler with no clothes, and-"

"I'm convinced," John grinned kissing Sherlock back.

"Hello boys! Oh don't let me interrupt," came Mrs Hudson's cheery voice. "I've bought some ice pops, can Hamish have one?" She asked. 

"Only if I can have one too," John grinned sitting back in his chair moving apart from Sherlock.

"I thought you'd say that," she smiled pulling two ice pops from being her back, handing the green one too John. "Hamish! Look what I've got for you," she ripped the top off the ice lolly just in time for the soaked little boy to arrive at her feet, bouncing from foot to foot at the sight of the blue icy stick.

"Thank you!" He said wrapping his hands around it before turning back to the paddling pool.

"Mish, don't take that in the paddling pool, come here please," John said, already halfway through his own ice lolly.

The boy turned, a little pout on his face. "But papa, I wanna go in the pool."

"Hamish, you can't take it in the pool," Sherlock said. "Why don't you come and sit with me?"

"Okkkk," Hamish sighed, plodding over to his father as if he'd been sentenced to something really unpleasant.

Sherlock swept him up blowing a raspberry on his tummy making the boy giggle and shriek before sitting him down on his lap. "See it's not so bad sitting with me is it?"

Hamish giggled slurping on his ice pole, his face instantly covered in blue from it. "You're silly daddy. Here," he held out his ice pop to him. Sherlock grinned and took a bite.

John stood up slowly kissing Hamish's forehead and Sherlock's hair. "Just going to ask Mrs Hudson something," he said squeezing his mate's shoulder.

\---------------------------------

Later the next morning John was sitting in his chair, eyes closed enjoying the utter silence in the flat. He was well rested after eventually getting a good night’s sleep. Sherlock had taken Hamish out, though John doubted they'd make it to the cinema he knew Sherlock would keep their son entertained regardless of what they did. The baby had been quieter than it had been for days, but not so still that John was worried. He sighed happily, enjoying the breeze from the fan. A quiet click from the door turned his sigh from contented to annoyed.

"Make it quick Mycroft, I've got a busy day of sitting in silence planned and you're ruining it," he said not opening his eyes.

Mycroft sat opposite John, resting his umbrella against the chair. "How're you feeling John, this heat must be most unpleasant in your condition."

"Mmm, nope, I love it. What can I do for you?" He opened one eye, his patience already thin.

"I wanted to talk to you about money," Mycroft steepled his hands under his chin. He'd known John long enough now to just get to the point.

John sighed heavily, sitting up in his chair. "This again?" He rubbed a hand over his face. "Did I not make this clear when I was pregnant with Hamish?"

"It's a different situation now John. You're about to have two children, less time to work at the surgery and a mate with no stable income. Can you really expect to-"

"Yes, Mycroft, I can. For one thing Sherlock's job might not be regular but it isn't exactly a minimum wage one either, we do fine for money, thank you, and despite what you might think of your brother, I know that if we needed him to my mate would take whatever cases he needed to to provide for us. And for another thing," John continued as Mycroft opened his mouth to speak. "I would never take anything from you without talking to Sherlock first and I'm sure you know what he'd say about this."

Mycroft pursed his lips sitting up stiffly in the chair. "Well I encourage you to consider my offer. You'll need to think about school for Hamish soon and paying for that, you could move out of here, out of London even, I'm sure Hamish would love to live somewhere with a big garden-"

"That's enough Mycroft. These are decisions for me and Sherlock, so while I appreciate your familial concern I'm asking you to mind your own business. Now if you wouldn't mind leaving me to my peace and quiet you can carry on with whatever it is you do all day that isn't meddling in my family's business." With that John reclined back in his chair, closing his eyes.

"As you wish," came Mycroft's reply, before he quietly let himself out of 221b. He knew better than to push the conversation when John was that unresponsive. Maybe once the new baby arrived he’d reconsider. Not that it was really Mycroft offering. The money was family money and John and Sherlock would end up with some of it anyway eventually. Mycroft would bide his time, and they’d see that he was right eventually.

\-----------------------------

John hadn't even realised he was dozing when he was woken up by a little boy climbing onto the sofa with him. John instinctively pulled him closer nuzzling his son's hair.

"Mmm hello, Mish, did you have a good day out with daddy?"

The boy yawned and nodded against John's chest. "Sooo good papa, we went on a boat, and on the tube and up a tower," he yawned again cuddling as close to John as possible.

A hand stroked through John's hair making him tilt his head up, his eyes meeting those of his smiling mate.

"That sounds like a busy day," he grinned at Sherlock, who nodded and leaned down to kiss John gently.

"It was, he loved it and I didn't have to endure animated sea creatures," Sherlock said, dropping to crouch next to the sofa.

John grinned. "And of all the places you went how many were you really allowed to go in?" He stroked Hamish's back softly, the little boy more or less asleep already. Sherlock had clearly fulfilled his promise of wearing their son out.

"Well, we were definitely allowed on the tube," Sherlock said with a smirk. "How was your day? Has our other child been good for you?" His hand stroked John’s tummy. He felt like his hands just found their own way there without him thinking about it, not that it surprised him, he’d been obsessed with John’s bump when John was pregnant with Hamish too, fascinated by the changes in his mate as their child grew from nothing inside him.

John gave a small nod. "Yeah, very well behaved today. And my day was good, had a few naps, read the paper, had a visit from a minor government official," he rolled his eyes at the last part.

Sherlock visibly stiffened.

"It's fine," John reassured him. "He was talking about money-"

"What?" Sherlock asked sharply.

"It's fine, I told him to mind his own business and leave me to my day of peace-"

"How dare he?" Sherlock snapped, the sharpness of his tone causing Hamish to stir.

"Ssh," John soothed, aiming it at both his son and his mate. "I told you it's fine, I dealt with it. Look, its misguided I know, but he interferes because he's concerned-"

"You and Hamish and the baby are _mine_ to provide for, it's nothing to do with him," Sherlock interrupted, clearly furious, his alpha instincts, more apparent as John’s pregnancy progressed, obviously threatened.

John carefully reached over his sleepy son, softly cupping his mate's face. "Of course we are Sherlock, and I told him that, and he dropped the subject. At least he's moved on from kidnapping me to offer me money," John smiled weakly. Sherlock huffed but didn't say anything and John was certain that Mycroft would be hearing from Sherlock soon. "Come on," John smiled shifting slightly. "Put Hamish in his bed, we'll let him nap for a bit, I'll make us some tea."

Sherlock came back to the kitchen while John rummaging in a cupboard that was too high for Hamish to reach to see if there were any biscuits left. Sherlock came over to reach into the cupboard beyond where John could easily get to and produced a packet of chocolate biscuits. John grinned at his mate. "Perfect."

He finished making their tea and sat at the kitchen table, Sherlock sitting next to him. They say for a few moments drinking before John spoke.

"Your brother did mention something that I think we should talk about though."

"I find it hard to believe that he could bring up anything that would be of real interest, but go on," Sherlock replied shoving most of another biscuit into his mouth.

"Well, it was more of a reminder really. He mentioned school and I realised that we've never really talked about schools yet-"

"Hamish isn't even four yet John, he won't be going to school for a while," Sherlock sounded confused.

"In just over a year Sherlock-"

"What?" Sherlock interrupted. "He won't be five then, he won't be old enough."

"Sherlock, he'll be five the November after he starts-"

"But he can't, he's just a baby still really," Sherlock interrupted.

"Sherlock," John smiled softly, holding his mate's hand. "I know it seems too young, but it's how it is, he'll actually be one of the oldest. That wasn't really what I wanted to discuss though. Mycroft mentioned something about paying for school and I realised we've never talked about if we'd want him to go to private school or state school, I mean there's lots to think about." John kept Sherlock’s hand in his, wanting to reassure his mate while discussing a potentially tricky subject.

Sherlock thought for a moment, trying to avoid thinking about the horror he felt at Hamish growing up so quickly that he'd be starting school in just over a year. "I think I want him just to go to the closest good state school. I want him to have friends nearby, and to enjoy school. We are definitely not sending him away to school, ever," he met eyes with John at that, a look on his face that told John that even if he wanted to argue that point he wouldn't win. Not that John could think of anything worse than sending their son away to school. How Sherlock's parents had sent him and Mycroft both off when they were just a few years older than Hamish was now he'd never know.

"Well that's for definite," he squeezed Sherlock's hand. "I need all my Holmes' around to keep me on my toes." He pulled Sherlock closer, kissing him gently. 

\--------------------------------------

The summer stayed hot and humid much to Hamish's delight, because hot days meant the paddling pool and ice lollies at Gran's and picnics with daddy. Once they'd gone paddling in a fountain until a grumpy man in a hat had told them to get out; Hamish hoped it stayed summer for ever. 

John however had prayed for rain every night for a month, he couldn't believe he was 8 months pregnant during the longest, hottest heatwave in 20 years. Even Sherlock had complained, though he'd stopped that pretty quickly when John had shouted at him to try experiencing the heat while carrying an almost full grown, fidgety baby who was clearly already as easily bored as its other father and had decided that kicking as many of John's internal organs as possible was a good pass time. 

Four weeks before his due date and it was as hot as ever showing no sign of cooling down. Hamish had woken up and immediately put on his swimming trunks, making clear to John what their plan for the day should be. John had just about convinced Hamish to have some breakfast, mainly to give Mrs Hudson chance to get up and have some breakfast herself. When Hamish had eventually started to get fidgety John had given in and called down to check that they were ok to go down whenever. 

"Hamish, I know you're excited to get in the pool, but we're not going anywhere until you've helped me put these toys away, put on some suncream and got some drinks in that bag," he pointed to Hamish's little back pack. "Ok?" He gave his son a stern look.

Hamish nodded, picking up the little bag, following John to the fridge to be filled up with cartons of juice. He zipped the bag up, putting it down and running for the bottle of sun cream on the coffee table. "Got it Papa," he handed it over and stood like he was mid star jump for John to spray.

John grinned as Hamish squeaked, the spray cooler than he'd expected. "Sorry Mish. There, all covered just-"

They were interrupted by the door bell ringing. John sighed, wiping his hands on his jeans. The stairs were taking him longer and longer. "Ok Mish, can you put these toys back in the toy box while I get that?"

"Then the pool?" Hamish asked, a toy already clutched between his hands.

"Yep," John grinned, ruffling his hair, heading for the stairs.

The bell rang again as John started down the stairs. "Alright, alright, hold your horses," he sighed.

John opened the door expecting to find a client wanting Sherlock, rather than his rarely seen sister.

"Harry...What are you doing here?" He stammered out, taking in her shabby hair and hastily thrown together clothes.

"Wow! You are very pregnant!" She brushed passed him into the hallway. 

"Yep," John nodded trying not to sigh. "I did let you know." He closed the door, already filled with trepidation.

"I know that," she said, turning to face him trying to smooth down her hair. "I just didn't know you'd be _so_ pregnant. You probably don't want to come for a pint then?" Harry's grin was not returned.

"No Harry, probably not, I mean besides this," his gestured to his pregnant belly, "it's 10am, and my son is upstairs."

Harry started up the stairs, John rolled his eyes and trudged after her, reaching his flat just in time to see Harry pick Hamish up and spin him round.

"Aunty Harryyyyyyyyyy," he shrieked, giggling as she spun him round. John half hoped the recently fed child would vomit on her, but instead she plunked the still giggling boy down, laughing as he weaved an unsteady path over to John.

"Thank you, Harry, that should have made him feel suitably sick for this time of day," he carefully scooped up his wobbly son, brushing his hair back. "Ok Mish?" 

Hamish nodded, resting his head on John's shoulder. "I'm all spinny," he was still a bit breathlessly giggly.

"Mmm." He turned his gaze back to Harry, setting Hamish down on Sherlock's chair. "What do you want Harry?" 

"It's a bit awkward," she said not meeting John's eye, fidgeting as she looked around the flat.

"It always is Harry, just spit it out, it's too hot for messing around," he leaned on the back of his own chair, wanting to sit but not wanting Harry to have the upper hand.

"I need to borrow some money," Harry at least had the grace to look sheepish. 

John rolled his eyes, noticing Hamish watching them from Sherlock's chair. "Give me a sec," he said to Harry. "Come on Mish, let's see if Mrs Hudson's around to take you out to the garden." He held Hamish's hand at the top of the stairs and called down for Mrs Hudson who appeared and was soon taking Hamish's hand in her own, chatting to him about a butterfly she'd seen in the garden that morning.

Returning to the flat John sat in his chair, watching as Harry dropped awkwardly to the couch. She was shaking slightly, which John thought was a bad sign. She would definitely have had a drink before she left her flat, and unless she'd gone somewhere before Baker St, that wouldn't have been more than an hour and a half ago.

"So," he began, wanting to get this over with. "What is it this time?" He made himself sit still in his chair, but a big part of him just wanted to wrap Harry up and look after her. A bigger part of him though knew that that wouldn't help her.

"I just need some help with my rent," she said, still avoiding his eyes. 

"With your rent? Christ Harry I thought you were working?" He ran a hand through his short hair. Money for rent was bad; it meant there was no money for anything else either.

"I am! It's just hard to make my wages stretch far enough sometimes," she said defensively.

"Well I know one major outgoing you could get rid of," John snapped. "What were you thinking Harry? I mean, spending your rent?" He sat forward in his chair, feeling familiar frustration building inside him. This was an old, well worn argument between them.

"Oh come on, John, don't act like you have a clue what it's like," she stood up and started pacing. "It's just a few hundred quid, it's not like you can't afford it."

"Excuse me?" John asked, his eyebrows up near his hair. "What do to mean I don't know what it's like?" He could feel his pulse starting to race.

"Oh come off it, as if you need to think about money. We're not all lucky enough to have a famous bondmate with a nice fat trust fund to keep us at home popping out babies." She leaned on the back of the sofa, an ugly look on her face that made her look so different to the sister that John knew and loved. 

John could feel his blood boiling. "Even if that were the case, which it's not, it seems to have escaped your notice that we're about to have another mouth to feed around here, and babies are expensive. I don't have money to just give to you because you've pissed away your rent!" They were both shouting by now.

"Great brother you are!" She grabbed her bag heading for the door. 

"News flash Harry, I'm not just your brother, I'm a father and a mate, I've got to put them first!" His hand was over his bump, the baby kicking away, clearly picking up on the high emotions in the room.

"Oh, fuck you John, why don't you just rub my face in the fact that you've got it all and I've got nothing. Further proof of how you're better than me!" She screamed at him from the doorway.

"I'm not better than you Harry. You had a shot at those things too, Clara loved you so much, probably still does, and you took her for granted and drank away your chances, none of that is my fault!" John was not taking the blame for the results of Harry’s actions.

"You know I hardly recognise you from the brother I grew up with," Harry said bitterly, shaking her head. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" John said sharply, still trying to soothe the shifting baby inside him.

"When we we're kids you were always there for me-"

"I am here for you," John interrupted, "I just can't help you repeat the same mistakes over and over." He sighed standing up as Harry continued, his belly tight and uncomfortable. 

"Yeah right," Harry sighed. "Face it, you've changed. When we were younger you always went on and on about how just because you were an omega didn't mean you were going to settle down and get all domestic with someone, that you wanted more from life than a mate and babies, and now look at you," she waved an arm at him, her voice hard and mean. "Now you're exactly what you used to hate - you're some rich alpha's broodmare, good for nothing but fucking and breeding." She shook her head sighing as if she was genuinely disappointed in him.

John felt his fury go from burning fire to frozen ice in a split second. He could hear his pulse in his ears and feel his heart pounding in his throat. "Get out," he managed in a voice much calmer than he felt.

"What? That's it?" Harry said with a sarcastic snort. "I-"

"I said get out!" John shouted, opening the door directing her to the hallway. "Get out, and do not come near me or my family again until you have a grip on yourself."

"John-" Harry's face was pure shock.

"Now, Harry!" His fury was clearly evident enough for her then, because she turned and fled down the stairs and out onto the street, slamming the door behind her, leaving John to slump against the banister breathing hard, his pulse a heavy drum beat in his ears.

"John? Oh my word, John, are you alright?!" Mrs Hudson's worried voice came quickly up the stairs to him.

"Where- where's Mish?" He panted, gripping the banister tightly as his head swam.

"He's watching the telly. I heard shouting- John you really don't look well, here sit down," Mrs Hudson guided him to sit on the top step.

"I just...I just need a minute," John gasped, rubbing his belly gently. He closed his eyes leaning against the wall, trying to breathe normally but struggling. He barely heard Mrs Hudson on the phone, his ears ringing loudly. The baby was kicking up a storm inside him, not at all soothed by his gentle rubbing.

Mrs Hudson sat next to him, wrapping one arm softly over his shoulder. "It's ok John, you'll be ok," she moved to stroke his back gently, trying to calm him in much the same way he was trying to calm the baby.

He unconsciously leaned against her. "I don't know why she hates me so much," he said softly, still short of breath.

Mrs Hudson squeezed his shoulder softly. "I think a lot of her hate is aimed at herself John." 

John nodded softly, wincing as a sharp pain spread through his middle. "Please calm down little one," he murmured rubbing his belly. He looked up as the front door flung open.

"John?" Sherlock was already halfway up the stairs. "What's wrong? Mrs Hudson said Harry was here." He'd dropped to a crouch a few steps in front of John, a hand moving to cup John's face, tilting his head to look in John's eyes.

"I'm ok, we just had a row and I felt a bit funny," he shrugged in a way that would have seemed more unaffected had he not winced at the movement.

“You’re a doctor,” Sherlock said, feeling John’s forehead. “Is a bit funny the best you can do?”

John shrugged. “Dizzy, mainly.” John replied, leaning into Sherlock’s hand.

“What happened with Harry?” Sherlock asked flicking a questioning look at Mrs Hudson, who also shrugged. 

"I heard them rowing and came out and found him like this, that's when I phoned you. I'm going to check on Hamish quickly, shout if you need anything." With a worried glance she disappeared down the stairs and into her flat.

"Maybe we should go to the doctors," Sherlock said, taking John's pulse.

"Don't be daft," John said waving Sherlock's hand away. "I’m feeling a bit better, help me up, I just need to lie down for a bit," he grabbed hold of Sherlock's hand letting his mate support him as he straightened up. Sherlock held his arm as John took the couple of steps back to the landing. He took a couple of deep breaths, rubbing his belly, Sherlock's hand on his back.

"Hmm," John sighed making no attempt to move into the flat, Sherlock's hand pressing on his back.

"Hmm?" Sherlock mimicked. "What does 'hmm' mean?" He moved to look at John, holding his arm still.

John moved a little, looking at Sherlock. "It means I might have been wrong about the needing a doctor thing, because I think my waters just broke..."


	2. All change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all change for the Watson-Holmes family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this wraps up this bit of the story, hope you enjoy it :-) 
> 
> Thanks again for all the kudos and comments, so nice! 
> 
> Again, I own nothing and no-one, they all belong to their creators.
> 
> Oh yeah, I've changed the rating even though it's not that steamy an update, I just wasn't sure what counts as T or M, so yeah, don't be disappointed by the lack of action!
> 
> \---------------------------

It all seemed like such a blur now, which was funny really, John wouldn't have said that 14 hours of labour, most of which involved pain varying from a bone deep ache to a feeling so excruciating he was sure he was going to split in half, could ever be called a blur. When he was almost at the end of it every second had felt like it stretched for days and he was sure every feeling would be seared into his brain forever. Now though, now he felt like he couldn't quite remember any of it clearly, it was more like he'd woken up from a really vivid dream that he couldn't quite remember the details of. As he gazed at the tiny bundle in his arms it all faded away, all of it worth it. 

Sherlock leaned forward, resting his chin on John's shoulder, his grin stretched across his face. "She's beautiful." He sounded just as awestruck as John felt. Sherlock had climbed into the bed behind John as soon as the midwife had left them alone. He stroked one finger down her tiny baby soft cheek, the other arm wrapped around John, gently holding him close.

John nodded resting against his mate, his temple against Sherlock's cheek. "She's amazing." 

John was exhausted, but had the thrum of adrenaline still rushing through him from the waiting after she was born. They'd seen her for a few moments then she'd been taken away to be checked over. Although she wasn't ridiculously early she was still at risk of various complications. John and Sherlock both had waited impatiently, desperate to see their baby. When finally a nurse wheeled in a cot with a bundle of blankets inside it, they'd almost fallen over themselves to get hold of her. 

"How is she?" Sherlock had asked from where he'd sat perched on the side of John's bed. They both tore their gaze away from the baby to listen to the nurse.

"She's great," the nurse smiled. "She's healthy, just a little bit on the small size, which is to be expected, though 6lb 2oz is still a perfectly respectable weight. All her other tests are clear, she seems to be holding her temperature well, and we'll see then how she does with feeding, though everything indicates that she should cope with it just fine. We'll leave you with her now, so just buzz of you need anything. "

That's when Sherlock had climbed onto the bed with John, his world shrunk down to this hospital bed and a spare bed in Mrs Hudson's flat. ”Hamish should be the first one to meet her," Sherlock murmured, pressing a kiss to John's face.

"Mmm," John agreed. "He should, but she'll need a name by then or he'll give her some ridiculous nickname that'll stick whether we like it or not." John looked sideways at his mate, catching his grin and returning one of his own. "I know we had a few names on our shortlist but none of them really seem to suit her do they?"

Sherlock nodded, his hand stroking her face again. "You're right; I can't see her as any of those names. I actually had a thought earlier, but mid contraction didn't seem to be the time to tell you."

John grinned at Sherlock. "Well that's very true, but now would be good so tell me what you were thinking about while I was in the middle of pushing her out."

"It was when you were complaining about it being so hot, I remembered the name Sunniva, it means gift of the sun," Sherlock's eyes were drawn back to their daughter. "It's old Norse I believe. There's also an 10th century Saint Sunniva who was an Irish princess who ran away from her father because he wanted her to marry a man she didn't love."

John stared at the baby for a few moments, running the name around his brain, seeing how it fit the tiny baby in front of them. "I think it's perfect," John grinned, leaning to kiss his mate. "Hello Sunniva, I'm your papa," he gently pressed a kiss to his daughter's forehead his heart feeling like it might burst. John had briefly worried that he wouldn't feel the same rush of love that he'd felt the first time he'd held Hamish, worried that he wouldn't be able to divide his love evenly between them. As soon as he saw her though he knew he needn't have worried. His capacity to love seemed to increase with the first sight of her, growing to provide his daughter with the same mass of love that he'd felt for Hamish.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

John looked up as the door to his room clicked open; grinning as he saw his son in his mate's arms.

"Papa!" Hamish grinned at him, already wriggling in Sherlock's arms, whining a little when Sherlock kept hold of him.

"Hello Mish, did you have a good sleepover with Gran? I missed you." John smiled as Hamish nodded at him, turning to try and get a good look at the baby. 

Sherlock perched on the edge of the bed, holding Hamish so he was looking at Sherlock. "Remember what we talked about; be gentle with papa and the baby."

Hamish nodded rapidly."I will daddy, promise!" He had one little hand wrapped in Sherlock's shirt, twisting to look at the baby. 

"Ok then. Here," Sherlock said, standing up with Hamish in his arms, before sitting him down next to John. "Sit next to Papa so you can meet your _sister_ properly." 

Sherlock and John both grinned as they watched Hamish's face as he took the news that his sibling was a girl. His eyes were wide and amazed as he looked up at John. "I said it was a girl!"

John grinned wrapping one arm around Hamish pulling him close to his side as he kissed his head. "You were spot on Mish, what a good guess." John moved his other arm to bring the sleeping baby closer to Hamish. "This is your little sister, Hamish, she's called Sunniva."

Hamish leaned over peering into her sleeping face. He grinned as he watched her. "Hi Sunny, I'm your brother." John grinned up at Sherlock when Hamish called her Sunny, glad that Sherlock had his camera out to document their meeting.

Hamish looked up at John, still grinning. "She's really cool Papa, but very little." 

John nodded at him. "She's a bit little you're right, it's because she was a bit early."

Sunniva wiggled a little then, waving one tiny arm around. Hamish reached out, putting his hand under hers, giggling as her hand hit his softly. "That was like a high five." He giggled again when she grabbed his hand with her little fist. "That's a handshake." He held her hand gently, letting go when she fidgeted.

"What do to think then Hamish?" Sherlock smiled at his son.

"I like her a lot daddy, I think she can be my best friend," Hamish nodded as he said it. 

Sherlock stroked his son's hair. "That sounds really good Hamish." 

Hamish had been full of questions after that. When would Papa and the baby be home, where would the baby sleep, what would she eat, would she go to nursery with him, would she want to share his toys. Sherlock and John had answered them, watching as their son watched his sister, softly touching her hands and feet as she squirmed around. He held his sock covered foot close to her tiny foot at one point, amazed that she was so little.

"Was I ever that little daddy?"

"Well," Sherlock began, “you were a little bit bigger when you were born because you weren't early, but you were quite little."

Hamish thought about it for a moment. "A baby lives in its Papa's tummy doesn't it?"

John and Sherlock both nodded, John handing the baby to Sherlock as she started to cry. After a long labour John thought the least Sherlock could do was more than his share of the nappy duty.

"That's right Mish," John agreed, pulling his son into his lap for a cuddle. He didn't want Hamish to resent the new baby for taking John's attention away from Hamish. He gave his son a squeeze cuddling the boy closer.

He felt Hamish tuck his head under John's chin. For a moment he seemed to just enjoy the cuddle before his head popped back up. "How does the baby get in there?"

John caught Sherlock smirking at him from where he was changing the baby. He had the very childish urge to poke his tongue out, but he resisted. "Well, um, for an alpha and omega, like daddy and me, the alpha has one part needed to make a baby and the omega has the other part in their tummy so the alpha puts the part that he has into the omega's tummy and the baby grows there."

Hamish wrinkled his nose. "That's weird. Does it hurt putting the baby in there?"

Sherlock snorted at that, sitting on the edge of the bed, Sunniva quiet again now that she was clean. "That's a very good question Hamish." He smirked at his mate. "So tell us John, does it hurt putting the baby in there?"

John tried to hold his grin in, kicking Sherlock's hip weakly. "No Mish, it doesn't hurt. Now tell me what you and Gran did yesterday."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For someone so busy and important, Mycroft always found a way to appear at any given moment, as if he spent his time lurking around waiting for just the right time to make an entrance. John was soothing his daughter post feed when he heard a gentle tap on his open door. He looked up to see an unusually apprehensive looking Mycroft in the door way.

"May I come in?"

"You don't normally ask Mycroft, but of course you can," John smiled as the older man sat on the edge of one of the visitor’s chairs. "Thank you for the room, it's been great not being on a ward, especially in this heat."

"It's nothing," Mycroft said with a wave of his hand. "How are you both?" 

John smiled at the grouchy baby in his arms. "We're great Mycroft, she's perfect."

"No ill effects from being early?" Mycroft watched as John comforted the baby, amazed in the same way that he had been when John had had Hamish. "She seems so small compared to Hamish."

John grinned. "Well, Hamish was quite a big baby, and this one's quite a little baby, so I think she seems even smaller. Would you like to hold her?" He thoroughly enjoyed the way Mycroft paled and stumbled out something that was probably a refusal of John's offer but before he could get the word out John had eased out of the chair and gently passed the baby into his arms. 

Mycroft stared at his niece, amazed that such a tiny thing existed. "She looks like Sherlock did when he was a baby."

John smiled at his brother-in-law. "Yeah, I'm sure she really just looks like a baby but I feel like I see him too." John gently stroked the baby's head. "Sunniva, this is your uncle Mycroft. Uncle Mycroft, this is your niece Sunniva."

Mycroft looked up at John. "Sun gift. It's perfect, as is she. Congratulations John."

John smiled sitting on the chair facing Mycroft. "Thank you. So why did you wait till Sherlock had left to take Hamish home?"

"I wasn't sure Sherlock would welcome me," he said without looking up.

"I think you might find that he's a bit more amiable at the moment," John smiled. Mycroft nodded, clearly not convinced, his eyes drawn back to the baby. "So," John grinned, "does she make you consider having some of your own?"

John almost laughed as Mycroft's head snapped up. "What? No. I'd be a dreadful father. I'm a fairly terrible alpha as it is, and I'm too old."

"Psht, you're 44 Mycroft, that's not too old in alpha terms, and I'm sure you would have said the rest of it about Sherlock too not _so_ long ago, and regardless of your differences of opinion even you must admit he's a great father." 

"Hmm, that is true, but it's all moot, I'm married to my work anyway," Mycroft murmured, handing Sunniva back to John.

John grinned at him. "I've heard that before."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

John shivered as Sherlock slid in close behind him, his cold feet pressing against John's warm ones. 

"Mmm, too cold," John burrowed further into the duvet as Sherlock stayed where he was.

Sherlock pressed his warm lips against John's neck. "That's because it's November, John." Sherlock hand slipped up under John's t-shirt stroking up to brush a thumb over John's nipple.

John's shiver this time had little to do with the cold. He pressed back against the detective covering Sherlock's cold hand with his warm one, pressing it against his chest. "So it is," he said, the smile evident in his voice.

Sherlock pressed his nose against the junction of John's shoulder and neck, breathing in where John's scent was stronger. "Mmm, you smell amazing..." He kissed along John's neck to his ear. "You smell like you might have your heat soon, how do you feel?" His hand was trailing down John's stomach, fingers teasing the soft skin.

"Yeah, I think-" he gasped softly as Sherlock's hand wrapped around John's rapidly filling erection. "I think maybe 2 or 3 days," he said pressing against Sherlock's hand.

"Hmm, you are going to be _so_ popular at Hamish's party tomorrow, all the alpha parents are going to want to chat with the birthday boy's papa," he pressed against John, his hand teasing his mate through his pyjamas.

John moaned softly, his hips rocking involuntarily. "You're- mmm-you're ridiculous."

"Nope, you smell mind blowing," Sherlock murmured against John's ear, his nifty fingers making his mate squirm and whine softly. "You smell like you've been designed to make an alpha crazy, so hot, and delicious, and fertile, and-" Sherlock froze, his hand still wrapped around John. "Wait, why do you smell fertile?"

John groaned as Sherlock stopped, pressing his face into the pillow. "Sherlock, why have you stopped? We talked about this." He pressed back against his mate not in the mood to chat.

"When?" Sherlock leaned back causing John to roll into his back, the doctor huffing at the loss of contact.

John rolled his eyes. "When we started having sex again after Sunny was born." Sherlock's face remained blank. "You said we'd have to think about birth control, I said I didn't want to take anything hormone based while I'm feeding Sunny...none of this ringing any bells?" John sighed as Sherlock remained blank. "You said we'd think about it when my heat happened..."

"Did I?" Sherlock looked utterly confused, his brow furrowed. "How can I not remember this?"

John grinned, cupping Sherlock's face gently. "You were trying to get your leg over for the first time in months, I can see how it wouldn't have been a conversation that would stick in your mind."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, he refused to believe his libido could have affected his brain like that. "I'll go and get some condoms tomorrow then." They were inconvenient in a heat, but they'd work.

John pulled Sherlock down for a kiss, twisting his hair gently as he broke the kiss. "What if you didn't?"

Sherlock pulled back, looking at his mate. "You're a doctor John, you know what would happen. 87% of unprotected shared heats result in conception."

John nodded, his fingers still tangled in Sherlock's hair. "I know that..."

Sherlock moved slightly further back from his mate putting more distance between them. "John, Sunniva is barely even 4 months old."

"I know, and I know it's not amazing timing but I'm not so far off 40, it gets harder to conceive after that and I don't want to wait," he gently brushed his hand through Sherlock's hair.

"We haven't even discussed having another child," Sherlock moved away from his mate, sitting up in the bed. "Do you not think we should have done that more than 2 days before your heat?"

"Do you...Do you not want more?" John hadn't even considered that Sherlock might not want more, he thought maybe Sherlock would want to wait but not that he might not want another child.

"I don't know John, I thought I did but I've not had time to think about it since you went into labour early and scared me witless. I don't know that I want us to deal with that again."

"Sherlock, come on, it was a fluke that Sunny was early-"

"That doesn't matter, John! You and she both were at risk-" he was facing his mate now, trying to keep his voice down to not disturb their sleeping daughter.

"But there's always a risk Sherlock! I think the outcome justifies taking that risk though." He pressed his hands against Sherlock's back, his thumb stroking soothing circles. 

Sherlock sighed leaning against John's hand briefly before unfolding himself out of the bed."I need to think." Before John could panic too much though, Sherlock leaned over him, kissing his forehead. "I'm not saying no, just that I need to think, ok?"

John nodded before rolling over, wrapping the duvet around him, he tried not to react when Sherlock left the room but the tightness in his chest told a different story.

 

When John got up Sherlock didn't seem to be around, but clearly had been judging by the big bundle of birthday balloons in the living room of 221b. Amazingly for such a highly anticipated day both his children were still sleep, so John took advantage of the quiet and hopped in the shower. If he hadn't been mid lather he may well have ended up hitting his mate out of reflex response to someone surprising him in the shower, the long pale arms unexpectedly wrapping around him, causing him to jump and let out a decidedly high pitched shriek. His mate kissed along his shoulder, up his neck to his ear. "I'm sorry."

John squeezed Sherlock's hand, knowing that apologies were rare. "It's ok, I did spring it on you a bit." He sighed softly as Sherlock took over the hair washing, gently tilting his mate's head under the spray. Once it was done Sherlock pulled him close, wrapping his arms around the shorter man's waist.

Sherlock kissed behind John's ear. "I didn't buy any condoms," he murmured softly.

John spun around facing Sherlock. "What? You didn't-? Why not?"

Sherlock stroked John's wet hair back, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I bought the balloons for Hamish and thought about how much he'll love them and how excited he is about today, and I thought, how could I not want to experience that as many times as possible, and if to have another child we need to do it now then...now it is." He stroked John's cheek softly. "I just need to know that you're sure, and that physically you're ok. You and our children are everything to me."

John pressed closer to his mate, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's waist, kissing his neck. "I'm fine Sher, and I'll stay fine, and it might not even happen this time-"

Sherlock leaned John back slightly. "Are you doubting my potency?"

John grinned pressing his forehead to the detective's chest. "And if I was would you feel the need to really prove me wrong?"

Sherlock pinched John's side softly. "You're a terrible man, trying to goad your alpha into proving his virility." His words might have sounded more serious had he not been pressing a growing hard on against John as well as trailing his hand down towards John's arse.

"You're-" before John could continue teasing a loud cry came from their room. "Ah," he dropped his head against Sherlock's chest, pressing a kiss there. "You see to her, I've got a birthday breakfast to sort out and party bags to fill."

\---------------------

Sherlock unpacked their son's weekend bag, rolling his eyes at the guide books that came out of it.

"He's trying to make our son boring," he said to John who was dozing in his chair.

"Mmm, what?" He tilted his head back to look at his mate.

"Mycroft, he's trying to make Hamish dull, I think he's taken him to every boring museum in London," he dropped the guides in John's lap. "He's trying to sabotage our son."

John rolled his eyes flicking through the guides."He looked after him for four whole days with no complaint, and Hamish has come home happy and worn out, so will hopefully sleep for the next 12 hours, I wouldn't mind if he'd taken him to a conference about radiator fitting techniques." John got out of his chair, taking the little pile of laundry of the kitchen table and chucking it in the washing machine. "Besides, some of those look like good museums actually."

Sherlock grumbled as he shoved the guides back into the bag. "Well, hopefully he won't have opportunity to try and make him dull again for a while."

"Mmm," John nodded absently, setting the washing machine. "We'll see, don't obsess about this Sher, it'll be weeks before we know anything, you were unbearable with Mish and only marginally better with Sunny." He started making tea.

"What? I was not!" Sherlock frowned at John as the doctor poured milk into the cups. 

John rolled his eyes, remembering Sherlock's attempts to get him to take a pregnancy test every day. "Right, you were as laid back and casual as always."

Sherlock snorted. "You're not funny John. I just want to know."

John leaned against the counter next to Sherlock, bumping their hips together as he handed Sherlock his tea. "You just hate things you can't deduce," he grinned at the detective.

"Hmm, not always, for example, if you are pregnant I don't want to find out the sex again."

John could see Sherlock's smirk out of the corner of his eye. "Fine," he agreed. As much as he wanted to know he also knew that this was one of the few things that could genuinely surprise his mate.

"In fact this one will be the best pregnancy yet," he started pacing the small kitchen. "Yes, this will by far be the most interesting."

"What are you talking about?" John's apprehension was growing by the second. 

"Think about it John, this is the third, we've had a boy and a girl, so I can compare this one to the other two and try and deduce from that!" Sherlock rushed into the living room, rummaging through his notebooks on the bookcase. "Aha, here it is, all my notes from when you were expecting Hamish, Sunniva’s is still in our bedroom." With that he took off to find the book among all the many other notebooks.

"Sherlock?" John called after him. "I'm not an experiment Sherlock! Are you listening?" He let out a long suffering sigh, dropping back into his chair. 

"Of course not John," Sherlock had wandered back in, flicking from one note book to the other. He sat opposite his mate in his own chair, engrossed in his notes. John shook his head, picking up the newspaper and leaving Sherlock to it, rolling his eyes at the occasional muttered bits of sentences coming from his mate. "You won't even need to take a pregnancy test this time John, I'll be able to determine whether you're pregnant or not from my research," he didn't even look up at John, scribbling frantically into a fresh note book.

"What?" John folded the newspaper into his lap. "You can't seriously expect to be able to deduce if I'm pregnant or not sooner than a pregnancy test!"

"I will, I think it'll only take me a few weeks of observations." He sounded entirely serious. In fact so serious that John couldn't help laughing. 

"You're absurd!" He laughed again at Sherlock's put out expression. "But fine, fine, whatever you like, deduce away, just try not to be unbearable about it."

"Excellent," Sherlock mumbled, already getting back to his notes. 

John grinned at his entirely ridiculous mate. The man was absurd, but John wouldn't want him any other way. Besides, he had his own wager in mind. If John was pregnant would Sherlock figure it out before John's morning sickness started and gave him away? John grinned, sipping his tea. Yep, it was going to be an interesting few weeks.


End file.
